


The smallest coffins are the heaviest

by chickennuggetmoney



Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickennuggetmoney/pseuds/chickennuggetmoney
Summary: this is my own book - not based on anything but I had nowhere else to put it
Relationships: Archive of Our Own Users/The Hugo Award (Anthropomorphic)
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

How am I supposed to tell this story when I don’t know how it ends, when I don’t even really know how it starts, or what happens in the middle. How do I talk of love when it was one day? One day can’t mean love. Because all I feel is pain. But I have to tell this story. Because I owe her. Because maybe through telling it I’ll figure out what happened. Whether I met a girl, or an angel. Or both. Or maybe even neither. 

I guess if I have to start, which I do, I’ll start before I met her, but before I start, you need to know some stuff about me. My name is Raven Westcan, I live in Luton, which is pretty much the shittiest dump of a place, ask anyone in this cosmos and they will tell you the same. I’m probably not a great example of a person; I deal with stress and trouble with nicotine and vodka, I don’t sleep because if I did, I would be vulnerable. And that’s not who I am, and I pretty much live alone. Technically my aunt is my legal guardian since my parents died, but she’s never here, so I live alone. The day I’m starting with was one if the worst of my life. There was no particular reason why it was terrible, it just was. 

11pm  
I flicked the lighter. The flame sparked to life, dancing in front of my eyes, lighting up my darkened face. I held it up to the cigarette, waiting for the end to catch and flicker. I breathed in deeply, the sour smoke making my head spin like it had the first time I had ever smoked. The time it all started to go wrong. I set the flickering butt down on a scrappy ashtray I had swiped from a café and took a swig of the fiery elixir of escape I stored under my bed. I slid the record from its sleeve, popped it onto the rest, and moved the needle over. Crap. My shaking hands had made the needle slip, scoring a line in the shiny black surface. I sighed but repositioned the needle and sat down on the floor, leaning back against my bed as Springsteen washed over me from the scratchy old player. After a while I finished the bottle. Stay awake. Don’t sleep. Don’t let yourself sleep. 

1am  
I stood up, dumping the bottle into the bin in the kitchen, heaving out the cheap bin bags, careful not to let it tear lest I be clearing up manky bin juice at 1 in the morning. I trudged outside to the bin and hoisted the bag into it. I paused for a second, breathing in the night air, allowing it to wash over me and wake me. I looked up at the stars, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the gravel path. 

Night was my favourite time, quiet and comforting. I could hide in the darkness in a way I never could in daylight. It felt good to know that nothing was expected of me at night; there were no disapproving faces, no patronizing looks. 

I sighed and headed inside, locking the door behind me, even though we had nothing of value anyone would want to steal. I headed up the creaky stairs and sat down in my window, lighting up another cigarette, the music wafting over me as I stared through the grimy, condensated window out at the peaceful sky. 

I sat there, half conscious, half asleep for the rest of the night, the edge of my face stuck to the window, my cigarette flaming out in my hand. 

5am  
I stood up and stretched traipsing into the old shower, smacking the rusty head until lukewarm water sputtered out. I pulled on a t shirt, shorts, brushed my teeth. Like mechanical movements, unfeeling routine. How long could it go on like this. I had no prospects; crappy grades, no money, no escape from this hellhole. God if I could end it today I would. God knows I had thought about it before. 

I sighed and grabbed some old plastic bags; I was running low on various supplies; maybe if I restocked it would give me something to live for. I scoffed at that. I slipped out of the door and walked resignedly to the bus station to go into town. Even the buses here were depressing. As the driver took my ticket he yawned putrid breath in my face. Great. My bad day had already got worse. I sat down on one of the bashed up faux-leather seats, picking at the gaping edges of a rip. There was a girl sitting in the window seat next to me. 

She had white blond hair and pale skin, she was wearing a yellow dress and sandals, a kitbag at her feet, staring out of the window. 

She jumped a little as I huffed down next to her, turning to look at me. Her pale face was sprinkled with freckles, her eyes palest amber, and her eyelashes white like her hair. I thought she looked like an angel, or a moon goddess – then I shook those dumb fanciful thoughts out of my head. i looked down at my lap, picking the edge of the seat more viciously. 

‘hi’ her voice was soft. I started

‘oh, hi’

‘are you okay’. With anyone else I would have given a perfunctory ‘yeah’ and moved seats. But there was something in her voice, her eyes, her face, that made me answer honestly

‘no not really

‘what’s wrong’

‘honestly? What isn’t. ‘

Her brow furrowed a little, and she smiled at me

‘this is my stop – come with me’

I would never have gone with a stranger, but the same thing that drew me to be honest with her, compelled me to follow, so I did. 

She took my hand. I expected her fingers to be cold, she was so pale, so I was surprised at the firm warmth in her grip. She wended her way along the narrow streets to a place I had never seen before, and dropped my hand as she pushed open the door, setting the bell tinkling

I looked up at the sign above the café door

The angel café

Inside was full of warm honey coloured wood, plants trailing from hanging baskets on the ceiling. She motioned me over to the table by the window and handed me a menu

‘best pancakes in the world here; they never fail to cheer me up’ she tilted her head and looked at me through her eyelashes, giving a small smile. 

Fifteen minutes later two plates of steaming pancakes were set down on the table, topped with berries and drizzled with golden syrup – she was right – they were lighter than air and truly the best I had ever had. 

‘feeling better yet?’ she asked

I laughed nervously

‘a bit yeah’ 

She giggled

‘my work isn’t done yet then’

‘no it’s fine i..’ 

‘shh’ I fell silent. 

She dropped some money on the table and picked up her bag, holding her hand out to me. I saw small scars on the back of her hand, like needle scars, but not drugs…and IV. I put it out of my mind and took her hand, smiling. 

Next she skipped off to the kids play park. I scoffed

‘come on that’s for..’ I started

‘us’ she interrupted, and dragged me over. She pushed me on the swings, so high I shrieked and laughed as I swung down. We slid down the slides, screaming, went on the monkey bars. It was so childish but I enjoyed it so much. She made something I would have cringed at ten minutes before fun. She disappeared off for a few minutes while I sat, my arm looped around the chain, waiting. I looked uo at the sky, while she had gone, clouds had scudded across, covering the sun with dishwater grey. But they shifted and a beam of warmth fell on me. I looked down and saw her running across the asphalt towards me, holding two fine circles. It was a daisy crown. I laughed as she positioned them on our heads and sat down next to me. 

‘Why are you doing this’

‘why not’

‘well…you don’t even know me’

‘I knew you were unhappy, and that’s never good – what more do I need to know’

I laughed, squinting through the sunlight at her. The strange girl. The kind girl. The sun had positioned itself behind her like a halo. 

‘we’re not done yet – come on’ she pulled me away again and we hurried off through the alleys to another shop I had never seen before. It was a pottery shop, with a paint your own treasure box sign in the window

‘shall we’ she whispered, giggling, and pulled me in. just before the door closed behind her I noticed something. The streets were clean. There were no bins, or rubbish, abandoned pill packets or old pacifiers that usually littered the streets of Luton. But before I could register this properly I was tugged inside. 

We sat down in our aprons, a plain ceramic treasure box in front of us, surrounded with bottles of glaze, and got to work. I watched her from behind a curtain of hair as we worked, her tongue between her teeth as she traced beautiful flowers along the side. I looked back down and continued with my dot-rainbow on the top. We left it there to be fired and ran out again. This time I took the lead. We went to the chippy, got Styrofoam boxes of chips, then I ran home and dug out a picnic blanket. We traipsed up Warden hill and stopped at the top, puffed out of breath. She wobbled, her balance thrown

‘you okay?’ I asked nervously. She nodded, eyes shut clutching her chest, took a deep breath and opened them. She nooded again and fanned out the picnic blanket across the grassy slope. We st there, eating increasingly cold chips, laughing and watching the sun set in front of us for hours. When the sky grew dark and sprinkled with stars we lay back. She pointed out constellations as I looked at her. She looked evangelical with the silver moonlight sparkling across her face, her legs twisted around underneath her, her hand in mine. I turned over, lying on my side and she mirrored me

‘there’s something I should tell you.’ She whispered

‘Today’s my last day’

‘last day…where’

‘here. Earth. Alive.’ She whispered, her eyes sparkling with stars

‘when I was on the bus, I was leaving hospital. They said today was my last day and I didn’t want to spend it in a gown and a drip.’ The IV marks on her hand made sense now. A tear slipped sideways across my face, over the bridge of my nose, pooling under my eye on the blanket. She squeezed my hand tighter

‘why…did you waste your last day..here. with me?’

‘who says it was a waste. I cheered you up. We had fun. I think that’s a good accomplishment for a day’ she whispered, her gaze not leaving my eyes

‘I think so too’ I choked out. 

‘then there we go’ she said with a small smile. I shifted across the blanket till I lay right next to her, my head bent sideways to rest on her shoulder, her head leaning againt mine. Intertwined. 

I slept properly that night, on the hill, with the stars and my guardian angel, for the first time. I think she kept my demons away to let me sleep in peace. Her last gift. 

I woke up to the sun warming my face. She was gone. I sat up quickly, tears ghosting my eyes again and looked around the hill. I was alone. Her bag was gone, the only indicator she had been here were the empty chip boxes. But she wasn’t gone, I realised; I could feel her here with me, in the sun, in the daisy crown still miraculously unbroken on my head. she would never leave me. 

I hadn’t known her name. She gave her last day on earth to make sure my day was not my last, and I hadn’t even asked her name. I thought back to when I had first seen her, when she had turned to face me with her angel eyes, to the name of the café, to the halo of sunlight, to the crown of moonlight. Maybe I had seen an angel. Maybe she had been sent from heaven to save me, maybe somebody up their cared. But even if they hadn’t, if she had just been a girl. She had cared about me. So, I would too. I suddenly became aware of a weight in my lap, I looked down, the treasure box. When had she got that back? I traced my fingers over the flowers she had painted, then carefully took off the daisy crown, the paper-thin petals whispering against my fingers, and placed it into the treasure box. As I put it in, I saw a wisp of paper. I pulled it out, just regular lined paper, but there was writing on it, faint silver pencil marks

Love, Evangeline. Xx

Evangeline. 

Angel. 

Maybe I had been right after all.


	2. Chapter 2

hey so I put some random tags and stuff in because I couldn't work out how to just do your own pic but I hope you enjoyed it!


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